Crusader's Legacy

[SKILORD]

Sorry man, been braindeadsince the AP Euro Exam. I also underwent a traumatizing experience when 'Blessed be the Peacemakers' got cut from the Literary Mag at my school.

So I had to revise it, make the ending not so sudden and purty the language up.

Which will fix it if the problem is not that it's too 'intillectual' ir too good (I've had arcticles cut for that reason) but I fear it would be cocky of me to maintain that.

Anyways..... I;ve got the next chapter planned out. I'll write it tonight I hink, if not then, tomorrow for sure.

[SKILORD]

Ive just voted for you in the hall of fame thingy me bob saying what an excellent writer you are! so its only fair you should write us some more. please.

Where is this Hall of Fame?

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Its the first Ive heard of it, I saw it on the Civ3 general forum and went to the off topic to see what all the fuss was about. If you go to off topic look at the Hall Of Fame Thread by Darkcloud and all will be explained.

[Paulypav]

SKILORD, excellent writing. I love your style and the theme of your story. Hope you did well on the AP Euro exam, although by your writing I would guess that you didn't fare too poorly.

[SKILORD]

Yeah, I gave it a run, my cheif problems involved the spelling of Czechoslavakia... Czekosla...... whatever.

My internet was sabatoged tonight, so I don't have time to write a chapter. Tomorrow I will not only post a neww chapter, but post the revised 'Peacemakers' (The ending is no longer so sudden and it's a bit deeper)

It shall be done, sorry it took so long.

[SKILORD]

Chapter 12: Priorities

Internal dissent would see the shattering of the Ceaser's regime into fragmented factions, many blame him, for failing to re-establish order, as the major catalyst in the coming revolution. Indian forces continued to ravage the countryside as the newfound glory of the masses began to shine and the reactionary forces of the Ceaser, calling themselves the 'Crusaders' fought desperately."

-The People's History of the People's Republic of Rome, Volume 1, Before the first Republic.

-

Burning feilds.

As he stood before them he wondered who had set the fire, noone would ever know, he guessed, though there would be attempts to blame ones enemies. Personally he suspected the Republican Revolutionaries, they were the only ones lacking the scruples which bound both the Conservative 'Crusaders' who refused to beleive that their way of life had fallen, and his own Indian forces, who were far to respectful of Roman civilians, from what he had seen, though it was possible that their respect towards his former countrimen was staged for him.

God it hurt to go home. He shot his eyes towards the heavens, wondering if any God indeed heard him, whether Shiva had adopted him or if he still stood under the juridstiction of a now dead Mars.

An aide tapped him on the shoulder, having approached from behind.

"Sir, the Romans come again."

Judas wondered if the man even remembered anymore. Had his Roman features faded in the presence of the Indians so much that he could no longer be recognised?

"Bring out the troops."

The aide looked down, "Sir, they are unarmed."

Judas glanced at the nervous young man, testing him for the courage to stand by that farce.

"They will be easier to kill."

"Women, sir, and childeren.?"

Judas stood at once, "What do they approach for."

"They come to protest the traitor, or so they chant."

"Where....." Judas looked again at the burning feilds, memories of those feilds, on brighter days when smoke did not choke the sky, returned to him, a tear blessed his cheek," Where are we?"

"You know that sire, Cumae."

Judas dropped to his knees, sobbing, wishing that his father's feilds would somehow stop burning, that somehow... somehow it would all be over, a terrible nightmare, and he would come to his senses back in Pompeii with that idiot general. God, what had he done, what had he done?

-

Grunts responded to the galley-master.

Axes sat quietly near the long benches, oars rowed steadily ahead against the tide. Not a word escaped the Norse lips.

"Odin shall smile upon our axes, he shall stand beside us, men, we shall stand like Gods upon the feild, we shall crush the enemy once and for all."

"We shall eat the feast of champions, we shall take the sword of victors and smite the king of their false nation down."

The reply was perfect, each rower had prepared, memorising those lines in the great academy of warriors, in Trondheim. The men were ready, and the officers were proud.

The captain's usually solemn head appeared, grinning to the gsalley master.

"Land ho."

-

"And so we go. Ships into the mist of the future, ever carried by forces beyond our knowledge to places beyond our control."

"Perhaps you, Ragnar." Odin laughed, "I am master of my own destiny."

"Are you though, you have no fear of things beyond your control?"

"Beyond my control, old freind?" Odin's laughter continued, "I am a God. I am the force mortals refer to as beyond control."

Ragnar grinned feebly back at the diety who had befreinded them when he had been but a cheiftan and Odin but a child-god. They ruled now, hand in hand they had crushed every opposition, their Berserkers defeating the followers of the other sects, uniting the nation under a single rule, their own.

"Are you sure we're in the right? With our attack and all?"

"No," Odin shook his head, as unconfident as the King, "I am unsure. They have fought more than we, they are better at it than we can hope to be, but they are off gaurd, that is our only hope. We must seize their ciies and destroy their means of fighting back."

"Are you sure they are a threat."

"They wish to conqure the world my freind. Peace treaties are meaningless in this world. Always are we at war, with everyone."

"But are you sure them? Surely the Romans are a geater-"

"Yes, the Roman threat of this.... Republic.... it is a great danger to us both. But you see, the Romans fall a little more each day at the hands of the Indians, to fight them is pointless for surely they will fall. We shall destroy both while they are weak, rather than only Rome. And by the way," Odin pulled forth his knife, "Never again are you to refer to me as Shirley."

-

Musketballs came across the feild, the smoldering ashes were crushed beneath the boots of the musketmen.

Their black and red banner surrendered their purpous, but it didn't take that to determine that they were Republican warriors, the Revolutionaries were the first to effectively use the musket, and even still they held a monopoly in it's use, though most nations held the technology.

Judas stood before his army, the crack troops of the Indian forces. Lances and sheilds held ready as the Cavalry, mounted upon their signature elephants, prepaared the charge.

"Right Flank reports engagement sir."

Judas nodded, as he had expected. Gone were the mob tactics of the revolutionaries, experience had brought with it a respect for the higher calling of strategy and order. It was mostly due to this revelation that the Roman EMpire, though Empire no longer, was now dominated by the Republic.

"Order a charge from the left."

"Scouts report the taking of positions to that side, it's what they expect."

"Then have our flank attempt to flank them and order the Elephants to mak a go at the offesive they mounted to the right."

"It would expose our center to them sir."

"They're huddled down, it's a gamble I'm wil ing to take."

Torches lit the night sky. As to the heavens he cast his hopes, let me die here, Shiva, let me one final peace. A burial in my families tomb, a proper respect for a defender of Rome.

The people of Cumae were resoundingly monarchial, after long conversations with his parents he had convinced them to forget the kingdom lost to them and take up the banner of India. Rome was dead to them, buried in the muskets of the revolutionaries. It salved his soul to know that he would not be accounted a traitor by them, bt rarther a defender of the old regime, a monarchist to the end.

He could not forgive himself though. His family may see all his guilt absolved, but it was in no sense that way. Were he truely as they thought he would be a Crusader, like his brother, but he was not, h was a traitor to Ceaer, his king.

"Lord, let me die. Make me face no more days."

"Left flank reports a smal victory to their flank, they seem to be retreating."

A pause.

"Retreating... where?"

It was with that phrase that musketballs tore the night, tearing shreds into the center, into the midsts of command.

"Return fire, bring the reserves to the center immediately toss it all in their face."

Judas took up his sword, his gladius, rcently curved in the Indian style, a style which was used in Rome by theives and highwaymen.

Bursting forth from the tent Judas forced the men around him to form a flank, striking at the revolutionaries, whose bullets had been expended, leaving them with swordplay, an art far more suited for the Indians.

A Roman,weilding a musket as a crude bludgeon, charged Judas, who sidestepped and slit his stomach.

"I shall go to Hell if I must, but I shall provide an honor gaurd." he muttered, slicing into every struggle for every scrap of land. Devastating the Roman front, when not through his own efforts, through the inspiration his distaste for life provided the men with.

The Romans fell back slowly, dying on every inch, but fighting for the right to die on that inch, and no furthur back.

"Right flank reports their victory sir, the Romans retratd backwards this time," a lopsided grin was the mark on the aides face. Bloodsoaked Judas looked to the younger \man.

"Aye, so be it."

Crawling back to his tent he collapsed to a dissapointed slumber.

-

Boats were unloading silently at the dock, Axes, men, stood ready before the ships, delicate prayers lifted the spirits to anticipation.

"Let us go."

They stole away through the streets, towards the Barracks where a sleeping army awaited them. "Blow the door." the door was rammed and laid low.

Pikes greeted them, though the men wore no armor. Axes began to swing feircely into the group.

Suddenly shreiks greeted them from the other side, the other Berserkers had managed through the wooden walls and were attacking from the rear, the baatle was lost to the Indians.

"Surrender!" was the shout on every Norse lip.

There was no reply, but the stabs and cries of battle of the Pikemen.

"India has no stomache for war," a Berserker grinned to the General, after the battle was over.

"No," but he was not so sure, not a single pikeman had surrendered and if that was any indication he loathed the thought of meeting the people in the morn.

"We should pray."

"For what? Victory is secured!"

"For those destroyed by demons of their own design." A dreamy look in his eye, the general saw the nightmare spread before him.

Suddenly he wondered if it was such a good idea, there was an almost audible hum in the air, the hum of a giant turning it's attention on a gnat.

Lord help us, the General prayed.

[SKILORD]

I'msorry It isn;t very good, but it's all I feel up to right now.

[Paulypav]

I actually thought the story was pretty good. The typos were a little annoying, but I'll chalk that up to you not feeling that great. I like the idea of another civilization trying to take advantage of the situation and prevent their own annihilation.

Still love the little jokes, too, even if they are corny.

[SKILORD]

I know they are, but I found that I had typed Surely and couldn't quite resist. Odin shall become King of such humor.

It started out pretty good, but I feel I got off track and the last bit could have been done better.

[SKILORD]

A preveiw: The Crusaders are designed for some cbraud style fun.

Read the Updated version of Peacemakers!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

At Last!! hey I think its okay, like Paulypav said its great to see another gang enter the fray and try to take advantage of the Indians current situation.

For heavens sake SKILORD please keep writing this story its great, and perhaps a little more frequently.

[SKILORD]

I'll work on it.

Yeah, the frequency will increase, i promise, though i think i broke my hand today, if it is broken (as others claim) it's not a major bit cause I can still use all but my thumb effectivectivly though my strength throughout is hurt) I can't write right now, sorry. I had plannned to write another biot right now, but it appears my plans have been altered.

[Paulypav]

SKILORD, hope that the hand is better than your friends think it is. In the mean time keep thinking up stories so you can pour them out when you feel better.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Best go to get it checked at an A&E SKI so you can be sure. Blast!! I knew I should have got your hands insured, oh well hope it gets better soon.

[SKILORD]

Alright, here's what it ended up with, my hand is not 'broken' in the sense that all of my bones survived the injury which can only be termed 'embarrassing'.

On the other hand (hehe) all the ligaments between the the thumb and forefinger are torn, this is in many ways worse than a break, and it certaintly hurts, but apparently I can still type with my remaining hand and the two fingers on the other which are still effective.

But I'm gonna see the 'Matrix' film tonight, so no chapter, unless (I doubt) it inspires me to write when I get home. Because it's so awesome, but most critics say it isn't.....